


just don't let me disappear (i will tell you everything)

by zialless



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Domestic, I think... Im sure, Kind of..., M/M, Mentions of the other One Direction members, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Zayn One Direction, Recreational Drug Use, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 05:11:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5321723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zialless/pseuds/zialless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the headlines are about him. Whatever—as if he cares. Then, it's about them—and he feels really happy to know they're doing great. And then, it's about all of them—that's when Zayn's scared to read further on. It would always have been the usual that Liam speaks out for everyone on the problem at hand, hoping for the best for Zayn. But the one he wants to hear from the most, the loudest one of them all—is silent.</p><hr/><p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>After nine months, Zayn finally gets a text from Niall.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	just don't let me disappear (i will tell you everything)

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiiiii, im back. i originally started this in august so like if you see days/times/months and all that kind of things not making sense, that's me changing things overtime and not remembering the changes, making more changes on top of that. 
> 
> i have a horrible depiction of them in real life so if they're not who you expect compared to real life, im sorry about that. i havent read or watched lots of interviews bc im a weenie.
> 
> my smut writing is good to me up until i post it so here i am apologizing again like always. i have no beta either so whatever mistakes are all on me... i even tried to edit it thoroughly but i couldn't read this for what seems to be the hundredth time... i dont tag whats in the smut because i feel very awkward tagging up "ass eating" lmao. welp spoiler alert.
> 
> hope u enjoy, title comes from secrets by one republic

It's going to take some getting used to for Zayn to adjust to the quiet mornings at home, instead of Louis or Niall yelling in their tour bus or hotel room. Mornings now —it's usually without any hardcore fans that camp out on the street outside their hotel or fans sleeping a floor away. Getting used to his life, would mean he can drop the nouns  _they_. It's only him now.  _Just_  Zayn.

He truly missed the boys, yet they've got their lives completely filled with company more important than him. How, would be a nice question to ask but he wasn't with them anymore.

To tell anybody the truth, everything is different outside of work. Many days of the four years being together, it was all for One Direction. Promotions, concerts, press conference, and photoshoots were not things best friends and brothers do off the clock. And when that time eventually came where it was theirs, everyone kept it to themselves. Harry, majority of the time, went to LA, Louis went everywhere company called him to be, Niall always went out golfing, Liam had Sophia, then there was him—who stayed home. He was no more different than they were.

A question he found himself asking since he left: who would everyone be to each other if One Direction didn't consume their lives?

Zayn wasn't tired of anybody. He really loved them. Everyone just needs their own space. But, it's so much different knowing how it would be to see if they really care about you once it's all over and it isn't a job anymore.

Sometimes the headlines are about him. Whatever—as if he cares. Then, it's about  _them_ —and he feels really happy to know they're doing great. And then, it's about all of them—that's when Zayn's scared to read further on. It would always have been the usual that     Liam speaks out for everyone on the problem at hand, hoping for the best for Zayn. But the one he wants to hear from the most, the loudest one of them all—is silent.

Zayn can't deny he loves the whole break. He's got nothing to do, and if he's got something to do, he'll do it on his own time. For today, he's got nothing but clean his house. He probably won't even start until the afternoon, so he stays looking through his phone.

He sees things to buy, things that intrigue him, things that entertain him. There's a certain kind of puppy he wants, except Perrie already owns a whole kind of pet shop so it's best he sticks to rings and t-shirts.

_August 16 8:29 Hey_

His phoned chimed. He stares at it, reading hey all over again until he memorizes that exactly on August 16, 8:29 in the morning, Niall texted him. He texted him. It could just be an emergency of some sort or a really big favour. Like enormously huge.

It completely caught him off guard to see this text coming from this one sender. He's making himself comfortable on his bed, making sure his arm isn't numb with his body weight pressing down on it before he opens the chat.

He takes a deep breath as he reads the text a few times over again.  _Hey_.

_8:35 Hi_

He slowly typed on, reflecting that on each letter he sends, Niall will see it. He sent it over, and he's swallowing the heavy weight in his throat down. God knows what time it is wherever Niall is. He's just glad they're finally talking again.

It's been 9 months since. Zayn blames himself for the lack of keeping up and for the way he strayed himself from everybody. If anything, the biggest apology he owes is to Niall.

It came out of nowhere, but it was the same week Zayn was heard to be consulting lawyers on account of leaving One Direction. It was abrupt, and something he needed to do for the sake of holding on to what he's got left in his mind. The magazines weren't supposed to be the ones to tell anybody from his team. Nobody was to know before the public. That came all tumbling down.

Everyone was in Asia while Zayn was home. The opportunity to speak to any of them never came again.

The funny thing is, everyone knew, but the last one to find out from all of them was Niall. When the tabloids came, all of them begged him not to sign release—pleaded for him to finish that leg of the tour before dropping that kind of bomb on everybody.

Liam with his sensible self, hoped to talk Zayn out through his support—it didn't work. Harry who knew first, was the one the beg him not to go, not to do such a thing because things like stress happen to each one of them. It didn't work. Louis with his raucous character, yelled and cussed at him before breaking down when he finally realized Zayn wasn't going to budge. He knew it wasn't going to work. And maybe, he would have considered staying long enough—if the last person he had waited on, didn't wait to say nothing.

_8:47 Relaxing?_

Niall texted back. In other words of his interpretation, how have you been?

_8:50 Just woke up actually. It's been good. Been slow._

Nine months is enough to convince Zayn Niall wants nothing to do with him. In between, there were no texts, calls, visits, or Skype. He was left without a goodbye or a word. And somehow, he had finally—maybe—forgiven him for leaving to be finally texting him. Or the massive favour he's texting him for is to hide a dead body, then by all means, he'll grab the shovel.

If talking to somebody after a day killed certain people, then what is it for Zayn when they're finally talking to each other after nine months? The sad part is, the word on the tip of his tongue is numb. Numb, the adjective or verb, for someone to feel deprived of intensity. See, with sadness—anyone can feel it. It's that ache in everyone's body that stirs around to make people feel heavy. Zayn wasn't sad. At first, he was. Then things became different—he knew things would change between everyone, and knew that wouldn't change. All because he left.

_8:53 Good. Slows good  
_

_8:55 What's up?  
_

_9:00 Album released  
_ _Start promos in two weeks_

 _9:02 Cool_ _Glad you're doing well_

 _9:03 Me too_ _I mean glad youre doin well too_

 _9:04 I get it  
_ _Thanks_

 _9:07 Just catchin up  
_ _Ttyl_

Just when things were finally changing for the better, it stops.

Later became never because he never did reply. It's been four days—it was a moment that disappeared with the wind. Or, he must've won a bet. He knows he disappeared off to ignore Zayn because he hasn't heard anything of One Direction in the spotlight.

The only time he's close to being in the limelight would be when Billboard begins to tease the public about his up and coming projects. Then it'll be a few days before his name dies again, and everyone will start to wonder where he is. The days are nearing to his release on this massive project with Fader so it'll keep everyone talking for about a week.

He's got some writing done as well while he really settled down. It would only be so soon before he's going back to the studio to hear how his future and potential tracks will go. Better yet—back into the wild where there was nothing holding him back, a real good time with his team. For now, he's once again chilling.

 _August 20 2:16 Sorry_ _N this is probably going to sound weird_  
_But wanna go to Italy????_

Italy? What's so special about Italy? Zayn means between any of them or personally to Niall. He knows Italy means nothing to him but good scenery and architecture, but how about Niall? What does Italy mean for him?

 _2:24 It's ok_  
_And why???_

 _2:30 I dont know tbh_  
_So yeah?_  
_Villa at Tuscany?_  
_Just so no paps_

_2:40 When?_

_2:43 If I say in three days_  
_is that like_ _Bad  
__Inconvenient?_

Zayn doesn't know what it really is. It's bad in its own way being in Italy. What's he supposed to tell his team? Then they'd want to know everything and that's the last thing Niall wants. He said no paps, so it must mean no one but the two of them have to go there. Not even Louis can go. He would have gotten a text from him about it first. Would they really be able to talk now? This is the one chance Zayn's got—to make sure the nine months they haven't spoken or seen each other stays nine months.

_2:45 I'll b there_

At night, Zayn spilled the news on his team that he had to go. Go where? Well, it wasn't a smooth idea to say he's going to UK because they might just follow or write about it. He stuck with the idea of having a vacation with his family instead; that way, they don't know where he'll be, doesn't know who he'll be working with because the world is a very big place. Besides, his team has no business to venture deep into the countryside of Tuscany. Full proof.

It was a surprise out of nowhere—even he saw that on Malay's face as he explained this abrupt scheduling to have a vacation with his family. Niall texting him in the first place is a surprise. It should be to anybody. Does anybody even know that they're talking? It feels like no one does.

Everything feels like a secret all of the sudden. Zayn was begging for his soul not to get caught in the airport or for the attendants not to ask for pictures. He's really keen to make this work. Niall's one for privacy as well. But a villa at the countryside of Tuscany was too private, even for Zayn. He wasn't sure if he got the address right. Seeing how when he came to the town, there's this massive villa compound on the outskirts, a wall of arches leading into the courtyard. Niall's Range Rover is parked there so it must mean he had driven here—planned on driving here since who knows when?

He shouldn't be new to the sight of big houses and mansions. His house makes the list of modern architectural designs of 2015. Somehow, this feels way more exclusive. Maybe because they're in Italy. Just Italy.

The water-fountain was a stretch nearly edging the walls of the courtyard as well, with flowers lining around it. This was really starting to look too good for his taste.

He knocked his knuckle on the glass door before he realized it is a glass door. He leaned closer—hoping to catch a sight of the interior which happens to be so Italian-esque. There was a little landing after the entrance before the split living room and kitchen. The tiling was used with a sandy red kind, the one that Zayn would never find in a house back in London. Then he realized he was being a creep when he didn't even realize Niall opened the other door beside him. Totally went amiss.

Zayn glanced up and down real fast, hoping to get a good look of Niall before he finds himself not being able to move in shock. Guess nothing's changed with him, but it all feels different. His hair is still platinum blond; with dark roots peeking out from under his newly cut blond tousles. Even if he was dressed down with full Adidas gear from top to bottom—a loose white tee with the logo on his heart and black shorts, fancy glasses perched on his nose, Zayn can say it's familiar, and that it's good to be back to this.

"Hey, you finally brought your own luggage." He says with a grin, his thin lips barely showing. Glad to know things still feel the same between them. He took a step to the side, leaving some space for Zayn to come into the villa.

"Yeah, kinda thought I should." Zayn looks down to his side. It was just a duffel bag. To Niall, at least it was something. It probably makes up for all the times Zayn never brought clothes and nicked off of the boys.

He almost trips off the landing but catches himself in time to save himself from falling. It's barely three inches off the floor and he's tripping already.

"Yeah, be careful." Niall laughs quietly, amused—not making fun. It's too late, he almost tripped.

Niall must've known Zayn's intense focus on the place, pinpointing every kind of decoration in the villa because he starts with, "yeah, it's great. There's a pool, garden, and then a vineyard just down the trail. Like an open backyard." He puts his hands in his pockets, feeling content that Zayn's warming up to the place.

Zayn turns to Niall to say something. At the last second, his head shuts down and they're both caught in this moment of silence, staring at each other like it's the first time they've seen each other. "Uh, is there—" Zayn pats his duffel bag to speak for him. Niall nods quickly before they can go up the stairs to the quarters.

Calling it a room wouldn't suffice. The quarters were both large enough to own a bathroom with a separate mirror and sink. Anyone's closet would be the shelves hanging around the room. It could be for clothes, books, or plants. In some parts already, they've set plants like cactus and ivy.

Niall leaves him to make himself comfortable. He doesn't know how long they're going to be here but it seems long enough to have to rent a villa out. He sets his clothes on the shelves, and hangs his collared shirts and jackets up on the small rack near the window. His clothes barely take up any space on the shelves. Thinking as if he's some home decorator, having more clothes along the shelves would make it look more real. He brought one book, and a few essentials like deodorant and his charger. He didn't bring things like a toothbrush and shampoo because Zayn's been to the villas so many times, he knows they're already stocked with items, since villas just happen to be filled with decoration and interior already.

Something about coming from a flight made Zayn feel grimy. Maybe it was sitting his lonely ass in a jet. All he did through the flight was nap and eat, walk around to get his blood circulating through his legs, and watch the clouds through the window. It's a surprise they're still allowing him to use the jet. He was smart enough to get off at Spain, make it seem like he's there with his family before he takes a train to Italy.

Somehow, this place just keeps unveiling hidden treasure. There was a glass walk-in shower with a massive tub just adjacent to it. He shouldn't feel as if these things are new. He's gotten so used to the luxury of hotels, a tub big enough for him to swim in shouldn't be anything to him but eh.

He runs the bath anyway, and sinks in deep enough that the water is edging over his collarbone. His arms are spread across the edge of the tub, his head leaning back while he basks on the sun hitting through the sets of windows he faces.

Everything about this felt odd. Because now, it really feels like a break. So he stayed in longer than expected, felt sleep coming to him earlier than he expected and lulled there for the next hour until Niall came in.

Through his fatigue, he squeezed his eyes shut while he looked back at him over his shoulder. He felt a stretch coming so he let his arms extend before he can really focus his attention on Niall.

"Yeah?" Zayn asks quietly, blinking the dew of water on his eyelashes to roll down his face.

"Dinner's..." Niall's voice falters, but Zayn understands him and nods before he's back to his own world—letting the water roll off his skin. Zayn tries not to let the prospect of Niall walking in on moments like that get the better of him.

Niall wasn't in the dining room by the time Zayn got down to the main floor with a crisp, white long sleeve shirt and jeans. At least, not until he hears a door clash shut and Niall's coming in with a look of occupied etched on his face until he looks up at Zayn. His chest feels a jump start as they stand a foot apart.

"Did you eat already?" Zayn had to ask. He was starting to feel bad that he took a bath in the first place that lasted nearly 45 minutes. Maybe next time, he'll just stick to the shower.

"No. We're eating outside. Just getting drinks." Niall walks past him. Zayn watches motionlessly, as Niall pulls out two bottles of cranberry and apple ciders in each hand.

"Need any help?" Because really, Zayn feels more like a guest than anything. Niall didn't invite him to be a guest. They were both on the same boat here.

"No, I'm fine. It's all set anyway." Niall holds the drinks up, pushing the door to open with the back of his body.

Zayn follows the path leading to the garden. It was bushes and flowers surrounding another platform, so he had to watch his step again getting to a seat. Above and surrounding them was a pergola with plants hanging from above as well. It was beautiful with the vineyard and countryside as their view. The sunset was facing towards them and Zayn couldn't say much but a few grumbles because Niall's done something no one can top.

Who knows how long Niall's been working on the dinner. He's got salad, oven-baked bread that you can top with sun dried tomatoes and Havarti cheese. It was interesting to have choices. Zayn never had choices at home. It was make what you eat.

However, the real thing that Niall focused on was the lasagna –it was roasted chicken lasagna with mushroom, spinach, carrots, and white cheese sauce—the one thing Zayn's been craving for this whole time. Restaurants don't do him justice since he was never a big fan of the tomato sauce.

"Thanks." He says quietly, tilting the bottle of cider back. Even when Niall and him held eye contact, he let his tongue lick the flavour that was left on his bottom lip.

"You like it?" Niall grimaced at him while he slowly pulled the fork out of his mouth, teeth grazing the stainless steel utensil.

"Yeah?" Zayn was unsure, only because of Niall's question. "I mean, you've gotten better from the last time." It was typical of him not to use as much salt. He was hesitant to dash another, so it was always someone's job to do it on their own food. All that counts is that Niall's cooking while everyone else was too selfish not to.

"I actually just followed the book I got from Chapters." Niall admits     when he reaches for the bread, topping it with a sun dried pepper before the Havarti cheese.

"Come on, experiment a little." Zayn chuckles. Well, at least the cheese on the lasagna is good. Zayn has to stretch his arm so far for him to get a piece without the cheese ripping off the top. "Ditch the book."

"Probably tomorrow." Niall was focused on keeping his finger food balanced. He tapped on the red pepper to stay proportionate with the bread before he takes a bite out of it. "Gonna need yo'help." He flicks his fingers from the crumbs as he chews.

"What do you have in mind?" Zayn reached for his bowl of Greek salad that he left half way finished. He jabbed his fork in, hoping to get a balance of vegetables, cheese, and pita crisps in a forkful as he leaned back and waited for Niall to continue.

"I'm fucking tired, so nothin’ big like this."

"But if I'm here, then wouldn't it take less of the stress you have?"

It's as if Zayn said something insulting to Niall that he looked away from Zayn and muttered, "Yeah" ever so quietly.

Zayn blinked with a grimace he didn't mean to have on his face. He chewed slower, as he watched Niall shake his head from some kind of 'bad idea', then reached for the cider. He coughed after, then decided to picking his plate up because he was already finished.

"I'm gonna get started on dishes." Niall mutters, balancing the knife and fork to stay on the plate as he pushes his chair back. He held the cider with his other hand, and didn't even wait for Zayn to swallow or for the words hold on escape Zayn's mouth.

The next time they spoke was before anyone went to sleep. Niall didn't want any help on the dishes so Zayn let them stack beside Niall, and then he left to go for a walk farther into the garden. Then when he came back, he only had a glance but Niall just spent his evening on the balcony with a whole bottle of wine and a cigarette. Great trip.

Zayn stayed downstairs in the living room, going through the set of movies on Netflix to watch so he can shut his eyes faster. He wants the feeling of falling asleep on the couch, having his body be a prisoner to the cushions of his seat. No action movies then. Maybe there's a chance with horror since it's all a repetition and clichés of little girls and white dresses. Don't forget demons and spirits.

He settled with a movie based on a real life story where a girl trekked across Australia to the Indian Ocean with three camels. It was bizarre to hear such a plan, especially when temperature could reach to the heights of 45 degrees Celsius. If she can do something hard and deadly like that, then he can get through this trip.

The movie didn't exactly do him justice. He stayed up passed the credits, intrigued by her whole journey with a photographer who stops by every once in a while like a checkpoint. Zayn could say he was more than just her photographer; connections were built and suddenly thrown out so easily. Not a new feeling to him.

Zayn finally headed off to bed. An hour pass midnight, his eyes were half way shut. At least he's close to where he wants to be. Suddenly, Niall's at the other end of the hall, walking towards him from the balcony. They had walked past each other like strangers. No looks, no acknowledgement, until Zayn was a step away from Niall and his wrist was held back from going any further into his room. He immediately turned to Niall, blinking as he stared into his eyes to read him. But everyone knows, you can't see anything reading a book under dim light. Niall didn't pull his body in—Zayn had done it himself to take a step in Niall's space while Niall's fingers pressed on his wrist. His thumb barely moved but Zayn felt it.

Niall came in for a hug out of nowhere that had Zayn stumbling back—one long overdue that Zayn had nearly melted in. He let his arms wrap around Niall, let his face be buried into the crane of his neck. He let his hands comb through Niall's hair while Niall relaxed into his embrace. It lasted for two minutes that they found themselves leaning against the wall; until Niall's bidding him goodnight and then he closed the door behind him.

He was standing all alone until it hit him he wasn't going to get an answer any time soon if he asked what the hell that all meant. He might as well just sleep his concerns away.

—

Zayn helped Niall with lunch just like he said he would the next day. The two slept in so breakfast didn't really happen at all. Zayn had a feeling Niall was already up and about by 9. There's only so much you can do in a villa where there's a pool, a pool table, a vineyard, the countryside right in your own backyard. Whatever they needed to talk about, things that Zayn wants to bring up—they keep quiet about it.

"Zayn, I'm worried. How much do we put?" Niall asks looking at Zayn, ready to tip in the olive oil over the chicken. Niall isn't stupid. He knows drizzling oil over a whole chicken isn't hard. His mind is playing him to think it is, only because he doesn't have a book.

"Don't ask. Just do." Zayn laughs as he takes a step back, giving Niall some space to breathe and relax. His grip is tense around the olive oil bottle. There's nothing to worry about when Niall's got the fancy bottle—the one with a long spout so over-spilling olive oil on the chicken wouldn't happen unless Niall tilts the bottle 90 degrees.

Suddenly, Zayn's reacting to the chime that is his phone. He looks up at Niall who seems to be fixed on prepping this chicken right.

_12:14 Hey!! I miss you!_

Oh, it's Carlyn. God, it's been a while he's spoken to her. Their last conversation was about two weeks ago.

_12:15 Hey! Nice to hear from you. Missing you too._

_12:15 How is your recording going?_

_12:16 Took a break. Vacation time with fam  
_

Zayn grunts a few times, hoping each time Niall would repeat what he wasn't been listening to. He grunts louder as Niall's voice rises at him before he can really pay attention, and looks up at Niall. Four times was four too many for Niall. His arms are crossed at him as he leans against the counter.

"I said. Is she. Doin' good?" Niall presses each word down to sting     Zayn's head. When he finally registers everything, Niall turns back to what he's cooking – adds a bit of thyme over the chicken.

"Y-yeah." His voice quivered. "She's—yeah." Zayn puts his phone on vibrate before he puts it back in his pocket.

"You sound unsure." Niall blurts out. Through his irritation of Zayn, he throws the leek in. One by one, he flicks them into the ceramic.

"She's doing very well." Zayn's eyebrows furrow in as he joins back beside Niall, watching him continuously flick the leek in.

Niall has a reason to be mad so Zayn doesn't hold it against him. It doesn't mean he's gonna be happy about it. With the way Niall's going about things, they're never really gonna get anywhere. Someone's always running away, and when they come back – it's like things never happened between them. He takes a deep breath, hoping the anger would flush away from his mind.

"She's doing some school work and all kinds of stuff." Zayn continues, his eyes flicker from Niall's busy hands to his eyelashes flittering over his eyes as he looks down.

"That's wicked for her." Niall sniffs before he goes to the sink to wash his hands. His nose must've caught some pepper because he feels like he's about to sneeze. Anytime now.

They let the sound of the sink fill in the silence. For more than 10 seconds that Niall's been washing his hands at the counter that's behind him, Zayn tries not to stare with such scorn. It can hardly be avoided.

"I'm gonna go for a smoke." Zayn looks down before he's walking out to the garden. He doesn't smoke around the plants. As if it would really help anything.

He walks along the pool, pacing back and forth with the cigarette back in his mouth from time to time. He doesn't even have to look at his reflection over the pool to know he's stressed out. Just by him pacing and sucking the smoke out of the cigarette, this catch up between them isn't going so well.

Zayn is trying. He's trying harder than he could ever right now. He's balanced on a thin silk thread. Being alone should have been the best plan this year, not a catch up between friends where one doesn't feel he belongs there. He has his team and his cousin Jawaad who are good enough company to be satisfied.

He goes back to texting Carlyn, only because he's got nothing better to do than to sulk. And if he doesn't reply anytime soon, she'd spam even more texts.

 _12:18 That's so sweet  
_ _12:20 Where did you guys go? Hope you're having a great time._

_12:30 Travelling around Europe. No stationary place._

_12:33 Bring back tapas if you stop by Spain_

_12:34 Don't think it'll make it out alive after I leave the restaurant ;)_  
  
_12:39 Funny you. Miss you  
_ _Love you xx_

Zayn pocketed his phone back before he can singe out his cigarette at the closest table. He takes a deep breath, looking out to the vast green of the countryside that he's caught himself in. It really is beautiful. And to know the neighbours who live a field or a yard away won't be rushing to this place once they find out their names is truly a blessing. As if the locals in this town, who are seniors, would know who Zayn and Niall are. If there's a chance that Harry's here, the old grans would love him. They won't even ask for an autograph which is cool. If Harry was here, they'd probably tend the vineyard and bake bread and find out who has the best sausages.

Of course after coming back inside, Niall would be gone to wallow his life away, somewhere where Zayn wouldn't be around.

Zayn takes a nap in his room. He had only been awake for an hour but it's enough to send him back to bed. He doesn't budge until 2, and somehow it's like the weather decided to turn against him. He listened to the heavy rain pour down its wrath over the roof. Feeling calm again, he took his blanket with him downstairs, hoping to see Niall so they can talk like they're supposed to, and pretend for the second time now, that nothing is wrong between them.

He never came down to Italy for nothing. If he wanted the rain, he would have stayed in UK where it rains all the time. He was fine not being able to talk to anyone and know no one wants to talk to him. But this was killing him. Niall does want to talk, but when the opportunity to finally bring things together—to talk about what they haven't before nine months—he's running away.

Niall isn't around. He would have known if he was in his room because he's right across it and no one is there. His car is still parked outside so it's good to know he never drove back home and left him to this villa alone. There's that idea because Zayn just thinks he's a massive arsehole.

Finally, he finds him. And out of all places, he was out for a walk when the rain caught him. But he's close at least – right by the pergola.

There's a fleeting moment inside of Zayn that made him loosen up as he watched Niall scurry under the downpour. He smiled to himself, trying not to laugh at Niall fighting between holding the clothes he's ripping off the clothesline or covering his head from the rain—both useless in this case.

"Niall!" Zayn yells from the backdoor. Fuck, does this villa even have a umbrellas?

Niall turns to his voice as he laughs. He's in a peculiarly good mood as well. A lot of things change in 3 hours so it seems. But he drops a shirt and Niall's quickly crouching down to pick it up, then the next shirt that falls out of his arms, then the next, then the next, until Niall's cursing out loud.

Zayn risks it. He's completely over his head but he does it nonetheless. He comes running over, and under three seconds, he's already soaking wet. His shirt is sticking on his skin and it's taking everything of Zayn's not to take it off. It just feels uncomfortable to wear clothes while being drenched in the rain. He crouches down the same level as Niall, holding his shoulder for his attention.

"Niall, what are you doing? You're gonna get sick!" Zayn asks, shouting over the heavy rain. He looks up to the sky, hoping the rain would let down but it doesn't seem like it.

"I-I was getting these." Niall speaks quietly. His voice is good enough for Zayn to hear through the rain. "But," he looks up at Zayn with the corner of his lip curving into a smile. "It's kind of too late, ain't it?"

"It's like a shower." Zayn laughs quietly for Niall's sake to feel comfortable to do the same. He shrugs, then takes the clothes in Niall's arms and sets them down on the table under the pergola. Then he jogs back to Niall who combs his hairs back as he stares at Zayn. "What's too late, really?"

"To get inside? Dry?" Niall's laugh mixes with a scoff.

"Yeah." Zayn agrees when his chortling begins to burgeon.

There was a little epiphany gasp that Niall surprised Zayn with when he put a hand on his chest. If his heart beat any harder, Niall would assume there's an earthquake happening. "Have you danced in the rain? Ran around like a loon, jumping and kickin' puddles?" He asks so rushed and so endeared like they're about to break into Broadway.

"I mean, I wouldn't want the paps seeing me kick puddles like an infant. It's not ideal." Zayn laughs with his eyes narrowing.

"As if that's the worst thing to happen to you. It seems like you don't remember your pants falling while you were doin' some groceries." Niall quirks his eyebrows up.

"I've very much suppressed it."

"Come on," Niall drawls. "It's just me. I won't peep a word of your developing dancing skills. I'm not a ballet instructor, Zayn. Dance with me!" Niall laughs as he grabs his hands and swings their arms side to side before Zayn can join in on the laugh as well. His laugh is loud; his eyes squeezed shut as his head tilts back when Niall pulls him in.

This was something he wouldn't have ever thought to do. He's 22 – dancing in the rain and running around wasn't something of an ideal activity to do. At least not in London. Everyone would watch you, thinking you're crazy for enjoying that kind of weather. Being here, maybe it's not so bad. Niall's lightened up more than his regular self who's already lightened up enough.

This is what an actual break can do for everybody. It gives everyone time to do what they'd like. Being caught in the moment, Niall might've forgotten he's going to have to go back in the limelight in less than a week. Right now, he was having all the joy in the world without the pressuring company of his entourage.

Much to his enjoyment, Zayn wouldn't have seen Niall like this. Now that they're not working together, it wasn't all for the sake of business and keeping in touch. It's to build something.

Once the rain finally let down, Zayn was shivering just as he zoomed in through the backdoor, almost slipping over the smooth tiling. Niall caught him from behind, held his shoulders before he ran to the fireplace where with one turn of the knob, he turns the heat on with orange flames appearing. He could hear Zayn laughing quietly behind him; it made him want to join in—even if Zayn continues to replay the memory of Niall nearly slipping into the pool. The floor had their footprints and a few puddles of water that would eventually dry soon enough.

When the heat got hotter and the fake flames of Niall's fireplace had gotten larger, they sat there in the meantime. Drying their clothes like this wouldn't be the case at all. They were soaking wet until Niall started taking them off—t-shirt first and Zayn tried not to completely stare the whole time when Niall pulled his pants down, only to leave him in his briefs before he could wrap himself with a blanket.

He could see Niall's clothes pushed aside, quietly mocking him for still having his clothes on. He could feel the A.C breeze on his wet back making the small hairs on his arms stand—and he could see Niall just enjoying the silence and the crackling of the fire. The blanket's size is significantly big enough that it could be used to wrap Niall twice; Zayn tried not think about it, and sat in his wet clothes seeping through his briefs.

—

Often, they kept to themselves. Meaning: once lunch or dinner finished, Zayn would go to the garden for some sunlight (during the day obviously) or his room where he'd take one of the ciders up to his room and let his music play quietly while he wrote out lyrics that was like a yell of a banshee in his head. And Niall... There's a possibility he leaves the villa but Zayn hasn't actually caught him taking the range rover to go somewhere else. In other words, this trip is going nowhere and Zayn wants to go home.

Waking up, he found a contraption that made him a cup of coffee. It's like some kind of steeper and it's what Niall had out just at the side of the counter. Italians are big on coffee and cappuccinos.

"Hey," Niall said quietly. His hand is on his face with his lips pouting out; he's got the look of morning happening. With Niall wearing his oversized sweater that covers his knuckles, Zayn handed him his morning cup of coffee which almost got him to smile.

"Thanks."

It was 9 in the morning, and Zayn had absolutely no idea why he's awake when his ideal time of a good sleep would be to wake up after 11.

He doesn't know what he heard first that made his soul leave his body; the cup of coffee smashing to the ground or Niall cursing.

"I thought I got my fingers around it." Niall huffs, trying to pick up the pieces of the cup by crouching on the floor.

"I've got it." Zayn levels down to the floor where he opens his palm for Niall to put the pieces on.

"I-I'm sorry." Niall apologized quietly, pouring every piece into Zayn's palm.

And he does what he always does best—leave.

Zayn doesn't understand why or what. If he was supposed to come here for another reason, he doesn't quite see it yet. All he's ever been feeling since he came was like a rope is choking around his neck, keeping him from speaking and breathing when the pressure over their shoulders is unbearably overwhelming. This was the one chance they could have together to make things right between them and all there is the silent treatment from the nine months—the continuation. The kind of problem that Zayn never wanted in the first place. Now to really be involved so deep into it, seeing each other eye to eye but nothing more is a waste of somebody's time who left the biggest part of his life to have more of it.

What's he supposed to do now? Call for a ride and leave amidst their ten days here? It wouldn't do anybody any good. Knowing Niall, he'd hold him against it just like he did when Zayn left for his own personal terms. He had a limit, and being blamed is the last thing Zayn wants to hold as a burden.

They used to talk. An actually conversation where Niall used to laugh at what he said, what he did—where Zayn used to use every bit of his energy trying to keep up with Niall because he wanted to. Niall always had something that kept Zayn going despite exhaustion or annoyances, and Zayn knows that. If anything haunted his mind, it would be for this kind of reason. That's why he agreed to come—to see if its magic would have its effects one more time. And being in such a bad mood altogether, nobody cares what's good to them anymore.

The funny thing is, nobody is stopping him from leaving—much less see Niall stop him from leaving. Except the truth is, he won't.

Zayn stayed away from coffee and stuck with lemonade that he went out to the town market for (Niall wasn't seen anywhere to be asked if he wanted to come along. Zayn wouldn't have asked anyway). It was homemade with agave syrup and lemons. They went low with the acidity of the lemon, that's probably the reason Zayn bought 6 bottles of them. He was hopeful that no one stared at him for any longer than three seconds. Everyone at the market was old and spoke Italian fluently so whatever they said, Zayn just agreed with.

He was sure Niall was drinking them too. Of course, all six 1.5 litres are in the fridge for the taking—well, 4 now. But he was making dinner tonight so Zayn couldn't cut him off on his second bottle.

It was some kind of oily, white sauce pasta that had red peppers, chicken, and corn. Whatever it's called, it smelled good.

"I think I'm going to eat up in my room." Zayn looked at Niall who sat at the end of the table with his elbow on, holding his chin. It just feels it should be that way—Niall's leaving for promotions in six days and Zayn will obviously be gone, back into his life where it seems to be like some kind of barricade from anybody he used to talk to to check up on him.

"Okay." Niall didn't have to look up to say his unhesitant answer. He just shoved pasta into his mouth and kept his eyes low.

"You're not even gonna ask why, or stop me?" Zayn grips his plate tighter.

"Okay. Why?" Niall didn't seem to realize his words were knives stabbing against his chest.

"Because this trip is probably the stupidest thing you could have ever fucking done." Zayn's voice went from something quiet to something you really had to look up to and give all your attention. But not Niall—he was holding his temple with the elbow holding up his hand.

"I guess." Niall mumbles, eyes lowly focused somewhere but Zayn.

"Say something!" Zayn starts to shout. He can feel his face getting hot. "Just talk to me!"

"What am I supposed to say?"

"Just tell me anything, like fuck off." The heat is moving down his cheeks. Because it's better than hearing nothing at all.

"Fine. Fuck off."

If that.

Zayn skipped out on dinner and went straight to bed. It wasn't easy to contain it all, not when Zayn felt the heat of his anger reaching his stomach and all he wanted was to yell. All that came out was him crying quietly.

—

He noticed the second cup of coffee on the counter the next morning at 10. He looked at the milky colour and he knew it'd be his usual cup of coffee. But he wasn't feeling coffee—he wasn't feeling for much but water, and Niall was outside in the garden with a football at his foot just rolling back and forth.

 _"Say toast 10 times."_  Told Niall while they were quietly talking in between an interview they should be participating in. The camera focused on Harry and Liam for the entire time that questions were being launched at them one by one. It shouldn't have been appropriate to make small jokes but he'll take the talk and discipline from their management just to be like this.

 _"I know this trick_." Zayn rolled his eyes but went with repeating toast until it filled his mind and all he could see and think is toast. But he knew this trick. You put bread in a toaster, and it becomes toast.

 _"What do you put in a toaster?"_ Niall whispered to him.

He knew it! Confidently and excitedly, it was,  _"Butter!"_

Niall's eyes shot out so wide at Zayn and he snorted so loud the interview stopped and all anyone could see is Zayn hiding his face in his hands.

Zayn shook his head and left the coffee where it was, rushing back up to his room where he went upstairs to find a cat on their balcony. It was a grey tabby cat that somehow found its way up for cover from the sun. It purred quietly from under the table until Zayn caught it with his two hands and cradled it in his arms. He knew this would be bad—the cat won't be able to leave him alone now.

He plopped it right at the end of his bed and made the cat its own bed on the table right by the window. Five more days, he told himself and the cat purred quietly. The cat understood that.

By lunch, the coffee was gone and it was replaced by a sandwich. Zayn skipped out on it, and took a granola bar instead. Niall was there to see it, yet kept to himself while he was at the sink washing his hands.

Zayn doesn't know why he'd hear anything from Niall after yesterday. He never said anything to him when he left, so really, why now? It's not like after spending time in Italy all things are going to be fixed. At first that's what he thought—then it became something too good to be true.

"I think I'm going to be cutting my trip short." Zayn held his phone to his ear, pacing around his room.

"How did the recording go?" His mom asked him.

"Well. Then I wrote a few songs, didn't get a chance to hear them yet."

"Great to hear. I'll see you soon? You're coming home for the holidays?"

"Yeah. I'll be there."

Zayn leaned against the dresser, just to notice that across the hall Niall's door is open. In often times it wouldn't be. Rare times like these, even with Niall inside, the door is open. It seems like a perfectly good time to talk—his mood was settled, making him think straight without wanting to vex his anger.

He was cautious coming in, but maybe it should've been the other way around. He wasn't all that quiet when he said Niall's name. Niall was amidst of something that explained his bare nudity in his room. Zayn could just see his back—his lean and broad shoulders that Zayn closed his eyes from. They opened again and his eyes continued to stare down the prominent dip down his spine, something his fingers feel familiar to. His eyes followed back up when Niall turned his head to the side to him.

"We need to talk, Niall." Zayn's fingers skimmed over the first button of his shirt when he took his first step. "About, this."

"Okay. What do you have to say?" Niall turned his head away, back towards his clothes where he seemed to be looking them over.

"I want you to say something. Don't let me read everything." Zayn thumbed at the button on the midsection of his shirt.

"You're doing a perfectly good job reading since you got here." At least that was better than two words.

"I just want to hear you say it." Zayn was on the last button by the time he reached Niall. "I wanna hear you."

He had taken everything off for Niall—including his trousers just to feel closer after they spent so many days being far apart, Zayn just wants to be able to hold him again, feel him breathe against him. Zayn's got a grip on both shoulders with his thumbs pressing on his back while his mouth pressed carefully on the crook of his neck.

He finally got a reaction; maybe one he didn't want to fix their problem, but exactly fitting to accommodate Zayn's wants. Now, he's not sure to go along with Niall's hands pressing on Zayn's nape for him to be closer or go with it, because it's exactly what he's been wanting for so many months.

His tone was low as the breath that left his mouth to say, "I hate you."

To expect otherwise would mean that Zayn's an idiot. And he wasn't raised to be a fool, to believe in lies he hears from the public and the ones be tells himself. To believe leaving the band built by bond more than fame-hungry motives wouldn't leave any destruction, it's like telling himself he never loved it all.

"But I missed you." Niall pushes his hips back against Zayn's, feeling his cock pressing between their hips. "It's been different without you around."

It's been different without anyone around either.

"Five more days, okay?" Zayn assures him quietly. "We'll make the most of it."

Niall finally turns to look at him, his blue eyes always bright as ever. Nothing changed with him, that’s what Zayn likes. "I don't want five more days." Niall holds him at his waist. "I want a break. I haven't taken a single breath since this all started. A-and you—"

"I love you." Zayn pressed the tightest kiss over Niall's lips that made a smack when they pulled apart.

"Took you so long." Niall's arms made it around his waist to embrace, pushing his tongue right over Zayn's bottom lip as they closed in.

Zayn could taste the mint off his tongue from his toothpaste. He could lick and lick his mouth all day, forget about the air he needs to breathe because it's so addictive to not want to leave. Niall sucked on his tongue, and it was just making Zayn's arms around Niall's neck constrict and head tilt in a high level of degrees. It was making Zayn's mind melt and fervent that his legs hooked around Niall's waist. Niall easily carried him up with his fingers pressing on the flesh of his ass, continuously sucking on Zayn's very plump bottom lip until his teeth started to softly nibble. His mind is already working quick by spreading the cheeks of Zayn's bum apart, and nothing else has happened for the last five minutes but their loud and sloppy kissing.

Zayn moaned quietly in his ear when Niall lifted him higher and started to mouth at his nipples. Elbows perched on Niall's shoulders, his hands were able to go through Niall's soft hair. His fist would tighten every so often, his mouth would drop open when Niall licked his skin and kissed him so tightly that the noise of his lips on his skin flooded Zayn's mind.

"Yeah, come on." Zayn moaned breathlessly as he looked down at his chest to see Niall sucking and nibbling at his nipples. He tilted his head up, and Zayn quickly ducked down to lick his mouth until Niall sat him down on the edge of the bed and bit his skin on his neck.

"Lie down." Niall whispered incoherently as he nibbled and sucked on Zayn's ear.

So he did—head near the foot of the bed while his feet slid against the soft silk sheets that made him weaker. It was smooth against his skin, and it made him think ahead to what they'll do together that would make Zayn writhe over the smoothest thing he's ever come by.

He felt Niall's hands over his eyes, seeing nothing but pitch black. He continued to keep his eyes shut when Niall's hands moved to hold his face—not long before he's slotting their lips together, holding Niall's hands to stay.

"Niall," Zayn muttered quietly, nudging his mouth on Niall's. "What are we doing?" No, it's not his curiosity peaking—maybe just a bit, knowing Niall's above his head, upside down from him.

"We're gonna have fun, aren't we?" Niall whispered, softly pulling at his plump lip.

"What kind?"

The kind where Niall kisses his stubbled chin and then his sternum, and suddenly Zayn's nose is brushing on his skin—his chest, now his mouth on it like Niall's mouth is on him. Then he feels a light pressure above his head—it feels like Niall's knees.

"You like this?" Niall lets his tongue drag on his abs before closing his mouth over. "Me on you?"

"Yeah," Zayn chuckles quietly, putting his hand on Niall's hips once he's finally got both his knees on either side of his head. He has a feeling Niall's cock is hanging over his face, so he puts his hand over—his fist around his limp cock.

"Bring any memories?" Niall kissed the inner corner of his groin. He's so close; he can feel Niall's breath heating his cock.

Too many memories for Zayn to recollect at a moment like this, but he knows he's enjoyed them all, and it won't be any different than this. Zayn blinks his eyes open just to see what he expected to see from Niall—his cock, his balls, and the hairs trailing down from his belly button he must've trimmed.

He flicks his tongue over Niall's head, pursing his lips over, making his tongue comfortable enough for him to push Niall's cock in his mouth and hold his hips as he pushes closer around the base. At the same time, Niall's got his mouth around too—bobbing his head carefully, tongue pressing at his foreskin. Zayn can't feel anything from below his hip—only Niall's mouth working on him, making his heart race, his throat tighten—everything but straight and sane.

There's an obscene sound of slurping when Zayn pulls up to his head, and lets his saliva hang from Niall's head. He licks his lips, tasting that subtle salt flavour before he can suck Niall's thick head again. He swallows when he pulls away, and licks between the slit, tongue flicking over with cum oozing between his tongue.

Zayn tightens his lips, pulling back and forth around him, and the taste building with his saliva that makes him want to swallow again. But he licks his lips, pulling Niall's balls closer to his mouth where he sucks on one while his thumb rubs frantically on his tip. His tongue runs flat on his balls, then his perineum where his tongue feels over his entrance—along with his head pulsating like it has a heartbeat in Niall's mouth.

His thumb widened him some more for his tongue to explore all over, mouth to suck on. He could feel Niall's knees shaking and moaning on his dick; its sending vibrations to his hips, making him thrust up Niall's mouth, not too much.

Niall slurps the coat of saliva from the base of his dick, and up to his head. He pulls off with a tight sound before he can stand up on his knees, catch his breath and watch Zayn turn and stand on his knees too. Their mouths are attached, tongues flicking off of each other. Both with bloody red cherry lips and sweaty skin, Zayn embraces him from his waist and their bodies fall altogether, where they're lying on their side with his eyes staring Niall through his blue and wild eyes.

"Fuck, I love you." Zayn gasps when Niall pushes his face into his neck. Niall's resting on his side as well, so their legs intertwine as their feet rub against the bed.

"Are you happy?" Asks Niall with a rush of air, his arm is around Zayn's waist. His fingers are over his shoulder blades, digging down so the pad of his fingertips drags against his back.

Zayn's eyes are closed as his mouth hangs open for air. His hand grips Niall's ass cheek up. He was gone at this point. His mind was in another place, and he didn't wanna come back. He felt warm all over, and his adrenaline was high. Neither of them can't keep still. Their bodies constantly swayed left to right as Niall pushed against Zayn and Zayn controlling himself to keep sane over Niall's mouth sucking at his skin. There were no words at the top of Zayn's mind.

Except, after he swallows and his mouth drops open again. "So fucking ecstatic."

"Yeah?" Niall whines for Zayn. All the while, Niall bites his lips just as he grinds his hips over Zayn.

"Yeah." Zayn's voice breaks midway. "Please."

"I love you, you know?" Niall exhales over a spot he kissed. "And I     will still love you after this week. I'm gonna come back, and see you, and love you the same as I have these five years."

A smile starts to grow on Zayn's face, "I don't doubt you." Then he     turns their body so Niall's on top. They lock their lips for a few seconds, before Niall can pull apart.

While Niall grabs his lube, Zayn's wondering why they had to move on the edge of the bed, why he's sitting like he's straddling the bed and why Niall has to stand behind him.

Niall puts a hand on Zayn's back, settling him to lean down and proper his ass up. Zayn sucks a breath in when Niall pushes his two fingers with a wad on lube across his fingers. It smells fruity, but it leaves his mind when he presses against his rims, pulling and stretching the muscle as he rotates his fingers. He slides his fingers out, smearing this fingers around his entrance. It throbs against his fingers as Zayn sighs to himself, his arms folded with his face planted into the bed.

"God, you're so tight." Niall bites his lips, pushing the tip of his fingers right at the rim. Easing his fingers farther in, he can feel Zayn's rim pulsating, which is helping his fingers ease in deeper.

Niall presses against his muscles, curling it back over and over – slowly, nothing too much for Zayn. He slides his fingers out; focused on how easy it slides out, but how tight Zayn is around him. He licks his lips at the pinkness of his rim before he can slide his fingers back in, right up to his knuckles.

"Oh fuck," Zayn leans forward, cheek against the bed as Niall tries to shove his fingers even farther. "Touch me there." He's rubbing against the bed, his fingers are gripping the sheets.

A moan pours out of his mouth as Niall flicks his fingers against his prostate before he can rub it continuously. He thrusts them back and forth the same time his fingers curls against the spot that makes his toes curls and throat clench.

"Yes, Niall. Yes." Zayn bites his lips, pushing his ass higher up.

He gives a shove, one Zayn groans to before he slowly pulls his fingers out, and see Zayn's muscles still tight.

"Still not opening for me?" Niall exhales, licks his lips when he thumbs over.

He ducks down, and Zayn's gasping right away. He feels Niall's tongue over him, licking and swivelling all over. Oh fuck, that's why it smells fruity.

"Yes, right—there!" Zayn moans, his arm reaching behind him and grabs a fistful of Niall's hair. His chest was beating fast, but all that he could think of is Niall's tongue circling his rim, flicking side to side before his lips can envelope over. No doubt, he's really open for Niall.

"Such a pretty thing." Niall whispers before he pulls up, grabbing another lube again for his palm. Zayn sits up, his arms at the front holding, him up. One hand from Niall grips Zayn's hip. With his slick cock, Niall holds around the base and slowly pushes the head into Zayn's entrance.

Zayn's chest heaves the more Niall pushes in. It enters so easily, already prodding at his prostate.

"You feel tha'?" Niall's other hand starts to rub Zayn's thigh from his calf.

"Yeah," Zayn sighs, looking at Niall over his shoulders. "Move for me."

If looks can kill and take a soul to own, it would be Zayn's needy stare. Niall starts at a pace in the middle—small, quick thrusts, barely poking over Zayn's sweet spot. There's soft slaps between them, any nothing more than Zayn moaning quietly to himself as his body rocks back and forth.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes..." Zayn whispers quietly and full of air. "Just a bit harder." He bit his lip when Niall quickly shoved his cock right     in.

He increased his pace, all of the a sudden. Rapid hip movements, strong and vigour thrusts that Zayn's mouth hangs to and eyes clench shut as he leans forward with his elbows holding him up.

The noise between them got louder, Zayn rocking over the bed got harder. His cock is slapping the against the bed, each time Niall thrusts in. He can feel every nerve of his on—sparking each muscle to clench as his prostate gets pounded on. Much comes to worse, Niall's right hand is holding his calf, and his other one holding his shoulder. His face his sweating, his balls feel like they're gonna rupture by the time Niall finishes with him.

"Oh, god!" Zayn moans out loudly, then bites his lips when he looks back at Niall. "Niall—" his eyes close when Niall shoves inside. His eyebrows furrow in together, holding everything of his sanity together. "I-I'm coming."

"You're gonna come for me?" Niall whispers, thrusts even faster. Zayn nods feverishly, his hands gripping around his cock – pumping around the base.

It only lasts a second before Zayn's sitting up, back arched beautifully as he reaches behind for Niall's nape, and pulls him closer. Breathing heavily against the side of his face, Niall's open mouth drags against Zayn's face as he breathes out.

Niall's hand slips in between his legs, wrapping his hand around Zayn's cock for him to come. He shoves his cock even deeper that his chest his puzzling against Zayn's arched back.

"Fuck." Zayn whimpers, his hand sliding up to the roots of Niall's hair just as he comes against his abdomen and all over his own cock, a bit spurting up over his lips as Niall's hands slide over from his stomach to his chest – pressing his hands over his nipples, feeling Zayn heave heavily for air while he mouths on his neck.

"H-hey," Zayn turns his head, and quickly finds their lips between each others. Niall's tongue sweeps over the cum dripping from his bottom lip, and pushes their mouths even tighter together.

"Hm." Niall grunts, remembering his cock still inside Zayn's ass. He pulls from Zayn's mouth, slides his hand up his back to gradually pushed Zayn down to his elbows again.

In a few, slow and long stroke, Niall's moaning to himself. When he feels his stomach clench and toes curl, he pushes his hip even closer as if they aren't already that close together. He comes slowly – thick and hot inside of Zayn who moans to it too, and licks his lips.

"Oh yeah," Zayn whimpers when Niall pulls his cock out, his rim pulsating with cum slowly dripping out from his ass. His thumb catches the one thick drip. As Zayn turns his paining body around to Niall, he quickly gets a swipe of the cum over his lips before Niall's licking over his mouth, poking his tongue inside his mouth after.

They fall asleep within seconds. Dirty, but content. Bare, without any blankets over, except Zayn. He was interested in the blanket. He let it wrap around his waist, while half of Niall's body slept against him. It was weight on him that he longed for, and never was satisfied when moments came where girls slept on him. It felt like a sleepover, something that best friends do. But this, it was special and exclusive that nothing can compete with it.

They woke up in the evening when Zayn can hear the crickets outside. Their windows were wide open from this afternoon, and the breeze coming in—it made the hair on Niall's arm and back stand. Even his nipple was hard.

"Hm?" Niall moaned awake when he felt something soft go on him. He didn't move or open his eyes.

"You're cold." Zayn quietly replies back.

"Oh yeah." He remembers, snuggling against Zayn's body for the emitting heat. "Thank you."

Zayn strokes his hair for a while. He's silent, with a mind full of qthoughts. So is Niall, who decided he couldn't sleep anymore, stayed quiet as well. Until, he nuzzled his face even more on Zayn's torso.

"You okay?" Zayn taps his shoulder. "It's just about 7 right now."

"I'm hungry, that's what." Then Niall looks up. "You?"

"Everything hurts." Zayn laughs.

"Come on." Niall gets off from the bed to hold Zayn's hand, and let their fingers intertwine as he pulls him into the bathroom for the shower.

Zayn leans against the glass wall, a smirk on his face as he watches Niall take the first few minutes to wash off. He holds his shoulder arm, following a bead of water rolling down his spine, and a trail over his chest when he turns to him.

"I wanna look you down as well." Niall drawls with a grin. He bites his bottom lip before he kisses between Zayn's lips. "Come on." He pulls Zayn against him under the shower head.

They got cozy by the time their satisfactions from dinner passed and evolved into something everyone likes to call nap time. Although, they already had fallen asleep before dinner, it couldn't happen again once more. So a movie deemed to fit well into the occasion where Zayn let his body lean back against Niall's, sitting in between the open space between his legs while one leg of theirs hitched off the edge of the couch. He rested his head back on his shoulder.

The Help is a good movie for them to watch; not too slow, not too fast, funny but serious—everything you want and a college wants in a movie.

Zayn held the hand on his lap, letting their fingers tangle all the while they laughed together at certain parts of the movie. It felt all kinds of familiar that made Zayn want more than ten days with somebody he's not going to be seeing for a long time. He knows by the time they get to LA, things will be different and this would just become a memory than the reality that it is right now.

His phone chimed on the table, and then it chimed again until Zayn realized it was a call with her face and name blaring out for the two of them to see. It was someone new, but not new at all.

"Let it ring." Zayn grumbles, tightening his grip with Niall's hand.

"Alright." Niall whispered right at his ear, just before he let his tongue press down on Zayn's skin, closing his mouth on the spot until he let his tongue work somewhere else while his phone kept ringing.

Zayn groaned quietly, letting his head fall back on his other shoulder. The veins and muscles of his neck exaggerated, driving Niall to suck and lick on his skin more that nobody noticed the ringing had already stopped.

"Are you hard?" Niall asks with such a husky voice.

"Touch me and maybe you'll find out." Because Zayn wasn't necessarily wearing anything but his briefs. Their hands stay together, and Niall's using his other hand to slide over and feel the thick bulge mound out from his briefs.

Niall pressed his fingers over the head while his palm rubbed his shaft that's suffocated in clad. He could hear Niall asking him questions to his ear; ones that makes Zayn harder by the second and toes curl. His hand seems to be building pressure the more Niall starts to feel him out—how thick he's become, how much his cock his leaking through his briefs right now. Just anything that fills Niall's hands.

Zayn sucks his bottom lip as he watches his cock bulging out in Niall's grasp. He has his thumb at the edge, and there's a peek of his cock in his briefs before Niall takes his thumb out.

Niall takes a deep breath in. He lets his head lean against Zayn's, exhaling when he pulls the band of his briefs down, letting his cock spring out. He has an immediate hand around his cock, pulling his tight foreskin down before he could pull back up and watch it roll.

Zayn comes a few minutes later, luckily no stains on Niall's couch but his hands instead. It wasn't a satisfying area to have cum all over—a waste to have to wipe it all off with tissue and only have a small taste from his thumb.

Four days somehow feels shorter than it did before where they spent it in different rooms. Now, they're sleeping in the same room and they're waking up early for two people who love sleep. The sun is out already, the heat from the rays blanketed Zayn—and Niall's body felt like the embodiment of the blanket itself.

"Zayn," Niall calls quietly. A smile on his face as he's turning his body around to face Zayn tells him nobody needs another inconvenient conversation about the lack of interaction—especially when all they've been doing is everything with their hands interlaced. "I'm hungry. What do we eat?" Well, it is morning. A good thing to do is eat, after all.

"Is there nothing in the fridge?" Zayn mumbles, fingers reaching for     Niall's shoulder arm.

"I'm thinking we should go into town and get food." Niall smiles again. It's not the first of today—hopefully not the last.

"Don't want to cook?" Zayn holds his blinking long enough he could fall asleep again. He slowly opens his eyes to Niall, staring up at him with a faint smile. If only it was like this every day.

Of course Niall doesn't want to cook; Zayn figured that out by watching Niall prepare coffee for the first few seconds and joined him on the couch to watch Italian news. Zayn may not understand anything but he could understand one thing and it's that morning news and coffee is everything anyone could want with somebody they love.

He had many years of waking up early for school to know what happens in the morning. Memories of his young self would be at the dining table with breakfast made while the TV was tuned to BBC One or Good Morning Britain. He remembers the complaints surrounding the morning news and how his dad ignored him every time he asked to change the channel. They're not a big fan of it unlike many adults, but it was just something to have every morning. It became a routine for his parents to have the news on in the morning.

It was his turn now. No matter how many Italian words pass him or how many jokes they've been laughing at while Zayn drinks his coffee with a plain face, he was having an ideal morning for the first time.

"You think anybody would recognize us in this town?" Niall puts on his brown hat that Zayn likes to consider his paperboy hat. It's not exactly the fashionable thing right now but Zayn likes it on him.

"I think we look the part." Zayn pushes his sleeves to his elbow. Dressing up extravagantly would mean lots of attention and that's not what any of them want. Niall's already projecting that idea with the use of his hat. Zayn's projecting that by letting three buttons be free and his chest exposed. Now that Zayn thinks about it, their villa doesn't necessarily shout normal.

"I've done quite enough research actually, to know this town's full of old people." Niall fixes his hat on his head.

"Give old people some credit. They'll probably know who we are." Zayn laughs quietly. "Let’s just act like tourists."

"Does that mean lots of selfies and walking?" Niall totally likes the idea of selfies. "Because I brought the polaroid."

Zayn grins at Niall just before pecking his lips on his. "Yes." He laughs when Niall's hat knocks off his head.

"Oh, jeez." Niall bends down to pick it up. "Just tell me you don't like it."

He takes the hat from Niall, brushing whatever dirt is on it. "No, I love it." Zayn fits it on his head, and carefully gives him another kiss this time without knocking his hat off.

Coffee as breakfast didn’t suffice anybody until they went out to a little restaurant. Zayn could count the amount of table and chairs and there were exactly 3 tables with 3-4 chairs each. The wooden windows were open wide to welcome the sun, so they sat by the window. A cup of cappuccino with a small pastry topped with icing sugar wasn’t all that appetizing compared to Niall’s creations. It was the small roads, red poppies, and the warm colours of the homes makes it all feel like a dream—surreal compared to what they’ll actually come back to. From the polaroid shots to the short walks in between the allies, it all felt so short in their time frame. It’s only been 12 hours of the four days they have left together.

Niall’s taken twenty photos, most of them all of Zayn looking at something—where there are at least three of Zayn looking up at Niall like he’s his whole world. Only to be short lived.

“Think I could convince the team to let me keep this babe?” Niall pets the lamb through its thick wool. It’s small enough for Niall to hold. Besides, petting it is the only thing he can do with a lamb—and hear it baa and call out. The owner isn’t all for selling the lamb away anyway.

“I’m fairly sure it’ll shit everywhere.” Along with Niall, Zayn’s hand presses through the wool of the lamb.

“You’re right.” The two feel the vibrations of the lamb’s baa. “One stinky beast is enough for the team.”

“As long as you’re able to admit it.” Zayn smirks, his hand tighter around the lamb’s neck.

“Darling, you don’t know me at all then.” Niall drawls. “Don’t I always admit everything to you?”

Not exactly in Zayn’s terms, but he nods for Niall when he puts the lamb down with the rest of the herd to run around too. A literal farm of animals and not what Perrie had going on when they were together.

Who knows how many messages she's left and calls she's made to him? She'll know the studio would keep him occupied, and it hurts to say for her sake Niall's really been the one to keep him occupied and content. It wouldn't be wrong if anyone knew about it—but it wouldn't be right either seeing how they're supposed to be engaged and all he could ever really want is Niall. He could wait until for a few months and let the whole thing die like how it should have been, but that's a lot of months for Zayn not to have the best thing he's never had.

There's a hammock by the poolside hanging at the pool house where it acts as a shade. There's not much of anything in the pool house but an L-sofa and a bookcase. It's like a fainting room to Zayn. There's no reason to faint at all so he stays on the hammock with Niall squished right against Zayn. No complaints whatsoever. They're just out to watch the afternoon pass by to evening since the sun is on the other side of the compound.

Niall tastes like coffee and the sweetness of the caramel gelato they shared earlier. Zayn doesn't have to kiss him to know that whole combination lingers on his tongue.

Niall caresses Zayn with his fingertips skimming along his ribs, half his body pressed against him, a side of his hip pressed on Niall's while Zayn's leg rests between his legs.

"Promise me when you're in LA, you'll come over." Zayn says softly, reaching for Niall's arm or hand—whatever comes first.

"LA?" Niall asks. It ends up being Niall's hand Zayn grabs. "What are you doing there?"

"I'm staying in LA." Zayn blinks slowly. "I've got a place there already. Connections and studio are all there."

Niall furrows his eyebrows as he holds Zayn's fist and turns their bodies so they're cuddled together with Niall's arms around him. "Already thinking this is over?"

"You know that's not true" Zayn huffs quietly. "Best getaway I've had in a while."

"Probably not after tomorrow." The corners of Niall's lips pull down.

If Zayn had a clue what Niall's talking about, he'd probably protest against whatever he's talking about. Then there's his curiosity that makes him wonder what horrible shit they'll be up to tomorrow. Living in the past of five years, it probably might involve lots of alcohol and people.

But everything was blue around the noon. Then he really knew what he meant.

The captain didn't recognize them and Zayn almost felt insulted for Niall if he didn't realize that it was good thing. Now the butler, however, knew the both of them the moment he greeted them on the boat. He promised to keep his mouth shut as long as he gets a photo with either of them alone and then altogether, for his nephew, he says.

On the nose of the yacht, a crawling distance between him and the deep blue sea, he's able to see Niall without having his pair of gazing eyes straining to see him better. Much of a greater swimmer than he ever will, all he can do is take notice of Niall's strokes cutting through the eventful waters of the sea. The exaggeration of the muscles of his arms forces Zayn to swallow down the thoughts and drown his mind through a blackberry cider.

The cool, controlled gale of the coast sends the sea to crash and Zayn loses himself to the should-be prosaic sounds of wind the wind against the sea. And there's a burgeoning call of his name.

Niall lets his breathing of his talk for him. The loud huffs and puffs tells Zayn to open his eyes to Niall needing a bit of air, and Zayn takes this to be the grand time to see the ocean dew drop from his lips. He hadn't taken to account Niall calling out for him until he's made his way up the boat. Zayn takes his time to register his mind all over again, his need to want to put the pressure of his fingertips on the tones of Niall's back is flourishing somewhere behind his mind.

This is an invitation to go dive under the currents itself, instead of using his broad imagination that won't help him in this case if he doesn't move from his lounging position. He licks the crisp taste of cider off his lips and sets it down while maneuvering himself to sit up. It's a good break from all the sitting around because they're not going to be here forever. And Zayn doesn't want to be here forever.

"If I had known we were spending a whole day in this yacht, I wouldn't have come to fucking Italy." Zayn squeezes his eyes shut tight before he opens them again—nothing but the vast sea in his view, and Niall's mocking smile pressing against his head.

"Yes you would." Niall muses; his tone sounds like a hum that vibrates through his chest. Now Zayn's wet too with Niall's body dipping of salt water against him. "I'm having a good day. Don't ruin it with all these lies about you not wanting to be here. I might actually start to believe it."

Zayn laughs, tilting his cider back until there's nothing left pouring in his mouth. He licks his lips, watching the sun hit Niall's back as he bends to fix his shorts. "I'll give you two jumps off the boat and ten minutes in the water before I decide to get out."

"I can't believe we have to compromise how we spend time together." Niall snorts, squeezing the water from the edge of his shorts.

"I won't swim with you for more than half an hour." Zayn pulls his shirt over his head, fixing the band of his shorts around his hip. "At least I'm swimming for you."

"Goddamn it." Niall curses under his breath. "I'll take what I can get."

And what he gets is the two of them holding hands when they jump off the yacht and into the water. Zayn's met with a heavy taste of salt and a sharp burn in his eyes when he opens his eyes underwater. His chest is beating fast from the adrenaline, feeling suddenly brave for another dive. The thing is, Zayn does know how to swim. He just prefers not to. He had taken classes from 7 until he turned 13 and quit when high school was nearing. So his diving form was excellent when he pursued diving and jumping off that yacht more than three times. Somehow, it's also how he's able to impress Niall.

Zayn lost track of time—lost the idea of their half an hour swim because it turned into a whole two hours where he and Niall are just jumping off their massive yacht they rented the whole entire day. They set their music playlist to project as they were swimming and diving—absolutely the best swim Zayn has ever had.

 

 _"If you like Piña Coladas!"_  Niall appears at the nose of the bridge, singing his heart out, arms wide and above his head.  _"Or getting caught in the rain!"_

Treading and waiting in the water, Zayn muses at the transition of this vacation—from awkward and tragic to ethereal and amazing, loving every second of it. Off the beautiful coast of Italy after a four hour drive up to the Adriatic Sea—there's not a lot of things anyone can do to compare. Niall winks at him when he sings, if you like making love at midnight, and Zayn very much does.

The waves are splashing at his chest before he could finally settle at a spot close to the yacht's ladder. Zayn's watching him carefully, hoping he doesn't disappear and end up somewhere else he can't get to. For Zayn, the water edging at his waist is already enough. He could stay like this forever; let the current of the sea sway him home (hopefully).  Niall laughs under his breath when he catches on how long he's been staring off into space. Even when he's come to realize Zayn noticed from the second he came and bothered not to interrupt. He doesn't love Zayn for it, but there are no words to explain how he doesn't break people from their thoughts, even when they're not thinking. It's as if he's thinking as well and Zayn gets really visual when it's about thinking. Anyone could see it in his face that he's deep in thought. No one interrupts him either.

The water is edging at his collarbone. And he likes when Zayn has his legs around his hip, arm around his neck while the elbow of the other arm is resting on his shoulder where his hands comb through his brunet roots. His eyes are low, likes when Zayn has this sleepy look on his face—especially when there's no distance between them and his arms are locking him in. Like a cage, he doesn't mind being trapped within Zayn's hold.

There's a tang Niall tastes when he licks inside Zayn's mouth for a kiss and Zayn tastes the salt from the sea on Niall's lips. Could be the worst taste in his mouth if Zayn wasn't aching for a pressure over his lips.

While he holds the railing of the ladder, Niall parts to take a breath, letting his top lip press on Zayn's before dragging his teeth under Zayn's bottom lip. Tilting his head to an angle, his tongue twines with Zayn's as his free arm embrace constricts around his waist holding him up. He wants him close as possible that it hurts, feel his mouth against his for so long that he can't breathe. But it's so hard when waves are swaying them back and forth, breaking their balance, and water is splashing on their faces.

"Babe," Zayn whispers when he pulls apart, tilting his head so it rests on his shoulder. His lips are close enough to brush over Niall's without inching nearer. And he slowly bats his eyelashes at Niall who's close to pushing through his want to kiss Zayn again.

"Don't fall asleep on me. It's only 2." Niall says under his breath before he grins when he moves to the crook of Zayn's neck, tasting his skin when his tongue flicks as he sucks on a spot.

"Niall—" Zayn breath hitches when Niall's tongue flicks.

"Yeah?" Niall groans at his ear, quickly sucks at his ear lobe before really pushing himself closer against Zayn, causing him to groan from his throat. He knows Zayn—he wants to be inside where the bed rocks when he's getting fucked. And Zayn should know Niall's just teasing him by now.

Zayn's eyes are tightly closed, trying not to let this take over him so early. He feels as if its too late, because he's nearly begging to go inside.

"Inside." That's all Zayn could make out from his lips before breaking out of his nerve to move his head and meet Niall's mouth.

"Yeah?" Niall laughs breathily between Zayn's lips before poking his tongue in.

He nods before he could even meet Niall's tongue and feel his arms constricting even tighter around his waist that it drives his legs to hug his hip even tighter and grind his hip with Niall.

"Later." Niall breathes before he could pull away from Zayn, keeping hand in hand together underwater. Water sticks between their glistening chest, drops rolling down from Niall's hand pressed on the crook of his neck.

"I just want you to myself." He could feel Niall's smile burning through his cheek, hoping his burgeoning admiration for Niall doesn't shine bright.

"I am yours." Niall presses a light peck Zayn returns between his lips.

And he lets go of Zayn's arm around him, lying himself on the water, floating in a star formation.

Two hours was enough for him. He doesn't question Niall's ability to swim longer than two hours because he's always going past his limits. He climbs out onto the yacht, squeezing the water from his shorts before he takes something out the pocket of his shirt that he tucked in before swimming. It was his lighter and just more than half of what used to be a spliff wrapped with cigar paper. He only needs about two or three tokes of his drug, and he'll be gone for the rest of the afternoon. It'll mix with the ciders, and hopefully when all this high comes down—there will be food waiting for him.

He climbs back down the short steps of the yacht, sits down the edge of the landing of the ladder. He lets his legs hang off into the water, and Niall pops out from under—cheeks redder than the usual. His fingers are like prunes when he takes the cigar-wrapped spliff from Zayn, sucking a long breath in before gives it back to Zayn, keeping the smoke buried in his chest.

"I want to eat some grapes." Niall blows out the smoke; escaping from his lips like a chimney. He starts to smile when he notices Zayn's eyes low as possible, pupils dilated until he can't see the golden brown in them anymore.

"I also want you to feed them to me." Niall laughs quietly, snagging another deep breath in from the spliff. He's starting to see things vividly, yet hazy at the same time.

"That's not happening." His eyes are barely open when he laughs at Niall. A laugh like that is like Christmas morning. "'Cus I'm gonna dry off." He smiles hard enough that his cheeks become chubbier.

He manages to walk properly until the second floor of the yacht, quitting his endeavours to reach the third floor while he's ahead. Under the sun, the heat searing his back, he's relaxed and mellow just by watching the edge of the sea meet with the clear blue sky. He wonders how far the next country is long enough with all this water around him, he feels so dehydrated—tongue dry with the taste of burnt cigar paper and weed. Not so relaxed anymore when all he thinks about is drinking water but he doesn't call the butler because he isn't going to bother him about getting him a drink when his high-ass can work to get it himself.

All in all, without even the drug screwing with his perception of water right now, he's glad he's far away from everything. The sea is vast, with %97 of the ocean unexplored. It's its own universe within the earth, where he can go to and nobody will know. Out of all the times he's quenched his wanderlust, he's content with this—content that he has got the opportunity to live a moment where no one's watching him and everyone's in their own little happy world, living in their own little version of heaven.

And Zayn's heaven includes a man whose skin bruises and flushes too easily, laughs at everything anyone says without ever wondering if it really is funny, oddly works sunburns, and treats everybody like they're family. And for someone who has just jumped 15 times in water, he's warm against his skin as he lies down beside Zayn. He doesn't know if Niall's basking under the sunlight or shining and emitting heat like the sun itself, but he's radiating regardless, and humming a tune to himself while he chews on grapes. Zayn's captivated.

 

 _"... I luh it'—when we're cruisin' togeth'er…"_  Niall hums incoherently but Zayn can recognize the song right off the first beat. He turns to Zayn with the grapes right on his face. "Here."

His tongue pokes out at the fruit, curling around a grape and he pulls it off the stem, decides cold grapes are really fucking amazing so he takes it all from Niall, puts two in his mouth.

"Gah..." Niall grumbles as Zayn chews on one before he takes another one in his mouth. "Should've grabbed the whole bunch."

"These are really good." Finally, Zayn's kindness comes and saves Niall's cravings. Zayn brushes a grape against the brim of Niall's lips, laughing as Niall frowns. Eventually it ends up in his mouth.

The whole entire time that they're drying off, they spend it eating grapes that Niall asked the nice butler to get because no one had the energy to do anything but watch the blue sky. When their hair is dry, that's when Zayn decides to go into the bedroom—changing out of his wet clothes and really... Decides that being naked and baked are two beautiful things that came to exist.

The bed is extremely softer than silk, but that must be the high talking. There's nothing softer than silk bed sheets, and he's not expecting a lot because the sheets weren't really important to him. Niall's important, and Zayn made sure he's putting everything into his kisses. Niall's mouth tastes like grape and weed. He's betting his tastes like that too, and maybe that's the reason why they're kissing each other hard. Zayn's thinking about not thinking anything about this afternoon but sweet, hot, sex they're probably going to have so his kisses are sloppy—so are Niall's and it makes everything easier.

There's the sound of breathing, licking, lips smacking loud from each other, and moaning that urges Zayn to fist Niall's hair, pull him in harder against his mouth until they're doing nothing but lacing their tongues together. Mouth ever so dry, Niall's the one to make it all wet again. His chest is heaving the same time Niall pounds his hips against Zayn, rocking him into the bed. This is getting too fucking hard and fast for him—Niall hasn't even put his cock in him and he already wants to come.

"Fuck, let me suck you off." Zayn lets out his long-held breath, not putting much effort pushing Niall off of him. His fingers skim against his abdomen before his hand falls back on the bed.

"No offence but I really just want to kiss you for like, a very long time." Niall dips back down. And Zayn tries to put all his energy to kiss him back this once, but it's half-assed and Niall just nips and licks at his lips.

"You're killing me." Zayn exhales, pushing his lips right back on Niall's.

"I'll ride you until you come if you give me two more minutes."  Niall's got this very mischievous smile on his face when he ducks down to mouth on his neck. Hot, wet, and tight—that's all Zayn thinks about his mouth.

"T-that's tempting," Zayn gasps quietly. Niall's teeth are digging into his skin, and he's sucking really tight. "But I want more."

Zayn is craving much more than that kind of simplicity—the kind to knock him awake, make him grip the bed sheets until his knuckles are burning white. It really must be this weed turning him into dog going through a heat, but he can't help that everything feels so good—like it's his birthday and he's down ten tequila shots, not puking into the toilet just yet.

Niall doesn't ride him—thank god. He spends the first ten minutes pressing Zayn on his stomach, forcing all his weight down on his body with his mouth on, licking and licking until Zayn's panting, rubbing his dick on the bed as a way to touch himself when both his fists are clawed to the sheets. He eats him out longer than the minutes they kissed. Niall being so into it, has his face pushed right against the mound of his ass, kissing, sucking, nipping his throbbing hole with Zayn's fist right in his hair, pushing him harder—whole mouth wrapped around his hole. Zayn squirmed in his spot, feeling like hell was ready to come down on him and burn his soul up. Then with his hole wet and loose enough, two of his fingers fucking him right in, curling and curling, body trembling beneath him. A third finger comes in and he thrusts them, presses on his overtly-sensitive spot over and over again until he's curling against the bed, his whole body burning with sensation.

"O-oh shit! Stop!" Zayn gasps, trying to pick himself up the bed with his shaking arms and legs. "L-let me breathe. I'm not coming like this."

"Am I that bad?" Niall slips his fingers out and holds Zayn's shoulders. He starts to massage his muscles that seem to be tense.

Zayn will wish that if he could, hope it would come true. Niall massages him through the two minutes he catches his breath. He doesn't wait for Niall to say anything for him to prop himself on his knees and elbows. Niall doesn't wait to fuck him right in either. He feels completely boneless and wrecked, and he does nothing but moan against his pillow, his body rocking back and forth while he bears through his relentless thrusting.

And even something rough as that with his knees and arms stiffing up, his ass cheeks flushing redder and redder through the snap of Niall's hips wasn't even enough—not even his rapid thrusts and fucking the shit out of his mind couldn't satisfy him. And he knew what he needed was somebody to look at, watch them admire him while every part of him slowly melts. Up on Niall's hips, he sits on his dick—and it hits him right away. Barely making any kind of movement, the moans start to fall from his mouth. The plan to look     at Niall while he rides him doesn't start of like that.

Shut eyes, hand on Niall's collarbone, other hand on the small of his own back, it takes him a few small movements before it feels easy and right. He can't fully sit on him without it draining everything out of him. Leaning forward helps him, even clenching Niall's shoulders through the ride. He slowly thrusts his hips back against his dick, letting the head reach the muscles of his rim before he pushes his hips back. Careful, is all he tells himself when he leans lower and closer to Niall's face.

"Oh god, it feels so good." He croaks out breathless—the sensation flows through his spine. Goosebumps suddenly waving across the nerves of his arms.

"Yeah, Zayn," He groans the same time Niall bucks his hips in. "Nice and slow." He does a few—nothing that'll kill or tear Zayn apart.

"You're so fucking breathtaking." Zayn exhales so loud, Niall jerked his hips up Zayn, thought he was already coming.

"Come on, baby." It pops off his lips so smoothly. "I know you like it faster. Take what's yours. Come on, Zayn." Niall growls, letting his leg bend off the bed to jut his dick deeper inside his ass, knee pressed against his back. "Until there's nothing coming out of your mouth but those dirty, sexy sounds you make. Look at me."

Zayn, with his blurry vision of the world right now, somehow cooperates and looks at Niall's darkened blue eyes, watching him lose his sense of direction.

"Like this, babe?" He braved sitting up straight; all that came out of     it was the entire moment of Zayn falling apart to his own movements. Niall's big hands were on his waist, made it easier to bounce on Niall; made getting off of his dick hotter when all he could think about at that fleeting moment he's reaching his climax is Niall's eyes on him and the tight knit of his eyebrows. The wet sounds between their skins, the shaking of his thighs, and the squelch each time Zayn lowered back down somehow egged Niall on to moan louder.

"Come on, come on." His eyes were needy and begging, and his swell, res lips of his were letting words of indecency spill between them. "Jizz on me. You're ready."

The sudden burst of whining from Zayn's mouth gave Niall the opportunity to grab him by the hair, pull him in for kisses he felt hasn't happen in such a long time. He's been deprived, and he lets the slow pace of their mouths opening and tongues licking off against each other consume them.

In Niall's sudden decision to buck his hips harder, pound Zayn in with his other hand over the small of his back, a loud whine comes the same time Zayn spills thick and hot between them—just like Niall wants, and the vigour friction continues with Zayn moaning and groaning in Niall's neck.

"O-ohhh! Fuck, come in." Zayn reaches behind him, putting his hand on top of Niall's on the small of his back.

"Shit!" He gasps with his hips barely moving, body a trembling mess. "Like that, huh?" Niall grazes his words and his body shakes through his peak, all of his heat being poured into Zayn—thinks about it dripping between his thighs. Niall shakes himself out of it; that was a sight that would push him over the edge for a second round immediately right after and nobody couldn't. The body on top of him trembles too, so he lets his arm wrap around his middle so they can catch their breaths together.

Sex in the hotel rooms and plane rides, pre-show hand jobs in wardrobe, cuddling each other just to put someone to sleep through the adrenaline of a finished show—all meant the same thing to him; they were things nobody else can replace, think that now Zayn's gone forever, he has to find some new means of spending his time wisely. He has more time on his hands without him around, doesn't mean he spends it on new hobbies. He just spends it alone because having a cigarette after the show is over wasn't the same as having Zayn around to tell him about all the times he's tried to quit. Going shopping around L.A. wasn't the same without Zayn talking about spoiling his mom so more with gifts. He does all those things and more; just without him and the endless hope of it all happening again someday.

And the someday is this. He has never wished for anything in his whole life upon a star or the 11:11 hour on the clock until it hit him that this'll all be over soon. So yeah, Niall will hold him tighter than usual; kiss him more than he would, and laugh louder and more.

He's not going to deny his anger that still exists because of Zayn leaving. It's going to be there until he finds the means to accept that he understands why he did what he did. Niall hasn't found it when it was all so very sudden.

Early evening is when they woke up. Their limbs were tangled, nose pressed firm against the shoulders, and still a faint scent of weed in their breathing. The skies were turning a light tint of orange and yellow, mixing with the blue. Everything feels so at ease.

Niall presses his lips on the tattoo going down from his nape, thumb skimming his shoulder as he holds his grip there. Of course he's awake—he never tends to wake up first. He pretends to sleep until someone's actually awake, and he'll wake up too.

"That was good weed." Niall blinks as Zayn rolls over to face him.

Zayn kisses him softly between the seams of his lips—not too hard like before. He lets his eyes close and his mouth do all the work that Niall accepts happily.

"That was good sex." Zayn nips his bottom lip and sucks it gently. Niall smiles in between.

"That's all you care about." His hands hold Zayn's face. Zayn takes his hand.

"I care about you." Zayn confesses, kissing Niall's wrist.

"Tell all your blonde femmes that?" Niall laughs. It was meant to be a joke—one Zayn would have handled if he really wasn't offended. There might have been some truth in it.

"They don't actually mean anything to me." Zayn explains. His eyebrows furrow at Niall. Something tells him this is going to be one hell of a talk.

"Your phone's been buzzing this whole time." Niall turns on his back, his arms placed on his stomach. "Can't say they don't."

"You went through my phone?" Zayn quips.

"No!" Niall defends. "I wanted to silence your phone because it kept going off. I saw them and it's not like I wanted to see it anyway."

"So what did they say?"

"I just saw the names. I didn't read them." However, his peripheral vision read a lot of I miss you's and questions about when they'll get together again. Maybe it's harmless, maybe it's all for fun. Maybe things would be different if they just told everyone what they've been doing for four years. But then again, with Louis harbouring more rage than he is on Zayn, it should all come around soon.

"So it's nothing." Zayn says slowly.

"It's not." Niall turns back to him, putting his arm around his waist. "If anyone finds out I'm here with you, everyone will turn ape shit anyway."

"No." Zayn sounds insulted; hoping a kiss on the corner of his jaw would suffice both of them, and it does always. "They're gonna say how blessed I am to have someone so amazing."

"They're probably gonna think it's a pity case." Niall laughs. With a guy like Zayn who's with somebody like Niall will be hard to understand.

"Sex tape then." Zayn muses, tracing Niall's jaw with his fingertips. "Show them who really needs to be the one they're sorry for."

"Especially the way you cry for more," Niall inhales deeply. Shit, not again. He can't get weak for this—not with Zayn biting his lip at him, nudging his nose on his, nearing the lips together but they don't touch. "For me."

"Totally embracing it." Zayn laughs.

"Most certainly am." Niall barely catches his lips, just kisses the corner of his lips before he picks himself off the bed, waits for Zayn get up, and struts to the shower with their hands held together.

It wasn't until 7 in the evening that Niall was all prepped up in clothes that warmed him up from the unforgiving breeze of the sea—nothing fancy that Zayn would have expected for a candle-light dinner out in the open. It was romantically sick, all Niall's plan to bedridden Zayn with so much love he'll turn red. But it's so hard to look at him and think this'll be their future when everything about their future can change once this stunning moment in their life where connections are being made again ends between them.

There's a doubt within him that this will all be that he wants. With all his heart, he does love Niall. And there would be nothing more Zayn wants than to keep the flame going between them. But there's the new crowds, new wants, new needs, regrets that will consume a mind, and the pain that will always be there for him to think over and over again. He wants nothing more than certainty in all of this for the rest of his life because five years was easily thrown away between the silence of the nine months apart. He can only imagine for 10 days would lead to something more.

The way Niall licks the wine off his lips, and the white pasta sauce that was probably left on his lips as the candle burns bright, black taking over the dark blue skies is all Zayn needs for this fleeting moment.

—

The rest of the days back in the villa are slow and normal. Niall cooks, Zayn helps from the sidelines, full support of what he cooks because the chef is the chef and Zayn the help is not going to go against anything he says just to be deprived of food.

It's no secret Zayn hasn't done anything on social media—neither has Niall who doesn't seem to follow a pattern, but he hasn't even tweeted. So they break the silence, starting with Zayn and his tweet:  _sun is hot, water is wet_  (add the goofy smile with the tongue sticking out and the bulging eyes). Niall follows in just half an hour between their exercise regime down in the work-out room with:  _Listening t the King of Pop through squats just toned me arse right to nicki ! #bootyisbehindtheeyesofthebeholder_

That's when Zayn actually really watches Niall do the squats exercise after the tweet and it takes his breath away.

On their last night here, Zayn curls up on the couch with his knees against his chest, leaning his shoulder against the face of the couch. Beside him is relaxed Niall, arm wrapped around his shoulder, making him feel so small and protected from the world. There is more to a moment in life than spending their night away in front of the telly watching a ridiculous film that they can't stop watching either.

"There is no coloured kid here whatsoever in this movie." Zayn drones, counting all the white skin within the tour group.

"Technically, the oompa loompas are orange." Niall hums.

"There is no real human being that is the colour orange without a spray tan."

"Should I get a spray tan?"

"Don't even do that. Like."

"Silly, Zayn." Niall scoffs, slapping him loosely. "I'd never."

"You'll look like a cheeto." Zayn laughs.

"That's my Halloween costume."

"For 3 months?"

"Something like that. It's called dedication."

"For Halloween, I'll say." Shrugging, he settles back from the conversation, letting the movie play.

Niall gave him so much shit for not watching  _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ ; he should give him the same amount of bullshit for not growing up with Timothy Goes to School. He might have been in his fifth year of grade school, but it seems like it should be something they should have watched. It's a crime not to have grown with such a beautiful show.

When the chubby kid dies, that's when Niall figured it was the right time to turn and ask, "sing me one of your songs."

"Hm," Zayn hums for a long while, reaching deep in his throat before it falters. The first song that pops into his mind is one of the ones he's held onto for three years to himself. It wasn't shared with anyone through the writing sessions, not even with his new manager.

But that's the song he sees when he turns to Niall and nods with gentle smile because sharing something he's kept inside him will feel so liberating. With the piano by the stairs, it wasn't until the last few months leading to November that Zayn had finally put a sound to go with the music. In his constant composing mind, the start of should sound like it's playing from speakers to get that build up leading to the first verse. The beat is moderately slow, like a heartbeat when it doesn't expect anything in the moment. Thud-thud, thud-thud it would go with a soft sound in the background. And suddenly when that chorus comes, the heart beat would drop and transfer to an explosion of riveting hip-hop/RnB beats with disappearing and wonky sounds that lead to the second half of the song before the bridge.

For now, all he had were notes from the first to third positions from B-D that made his song like soothing jazz. It was a good sound; one that urges him to release at least two versions of it, kind of a two-parter song.

_I've said a thousand times that those blue eyes were nothing but memories of the summer._

"What?" Niall exhales. That was worrying him.

_Your laugh was only noise to the ear, only thing anybody hears. Late night messy sheets were only a reminder to keep it neat._

"W-what?" Niall says again, with his brows furrowed in. The words made some kind of tear through his chest that made him feel suddenly low to the point his eyes are watering.

_Everything about you I've looked over, you were just my late night lover. I'd say you were mine until the morning of 4:29, and it was goodbye my late night lover. Fuck, baby, I'd be a sinner if I told myself once more you don't matter._

_3:09, 3:09 you were still mine. You kissed me, I kissed too. Only room for us two. Endless counts, endless wins for the both of us. Forget pretendin'._

Tell me baby, how much I mean to you. Tell me what you want, what you need. I'm here, I'm here, your midnight lover.

_I'd be a sinner if I told myself once more you don't matter._

"Yes you would." Niall tries for a big ending by pressing the second last key at the right end. "When did you write this?"

"2012. Confusing time, but like—I was thinking if it was really about Perrie or—you."

And Zayn loved his eyes—he's able yo look at him deep, reading him inside out. He's not sure if it's because it's blue. Zayn isn't judgemental like that. Perrie had blue eyes, yet Zayn never looked at her like he looked at him—made him feel shivers everywhere and his face all hot.

Even when Zayn's eyelashes brushed against Niall's skin, that was his way of communicating. Anything he did, Niall just knew what he was telling him. Zayn didn't have that much with anybody.

They sit there in silence, occasional keys being pressed in between the quietness of the house. Niall's the one to say something after the last chord Zayn plays with his right hand. "What happens after this?" Looking up from the playing hand to Zayn's eyes.

"You want the truth or reality?" Zayn curls his lips into a thin line, tilting his head to meet Niall's gaze.

Niall didn't think it would be like that. They were both things he wanted to hear, maybe needs to hear so he can get by in life in peace without hoarding all this anger in regret in. He knows if he hears reality, it might just break him, and he deserves truth—deserves to know what his world would have looked like.

Niall doesn't supply him an answer, and Zayn gives him one he knows is right in every context.

"I'm going to constantly think about you in everything that I see because the whole world reminds me of you." Zayn lets out a breath. "And you know that nothing is going to change after this. Life is going to be great because I love you and knowing we have this is—it's reassuring. Everyone will think they know truth, but it's you, and they really don't know it after all."

Niall laughs out the ache in his throat. He doesn't swallow it down—he wants to know it's there, something he can hold himself against that he's on the edge of crying. "I love you too."

Zayn smiles, Niall does too. He slides away from his seat, stands behind Zayn, and lets his arms hug around Zayn's neck. He doesn't strangle him like this. It's actually nice. Zayn feels Niall's face against his head, and he tries to lean back, catch his lips on his temple.

"I love you too." Niall whispers again, laughs the lump in his throat out again. "You're like, the good balance diet I need in my life. I hate you at some point, but everything you do is good for me and my health. Life gets too wild, but you're the assurance too, the balance of it all. And whatever happens in this journey of yours, I hope you're not apologizing to anybody. Keep true to yourself."

"Hard to do that, to be honest." Zayn confesses, putting his fingers on the white keys to make a chord. "It's so easy to say, until something happens and you feel the need to apologize because it's like, I owe the world."

"If I didn't call you to spend these ten days with you, all the things that you've done and the things you will do—I'd embrace your mistakes, love life that it's not happening to me." Because all eyes are not on them anymore, it's all on Zayn. And every little thing he does, it'll be seen. Good or bad, won't even matter if all everyone expects and wants to see is bad.

What is good from somebody like Zayn? That's the stupid thing. It's all heaven in One Direction's side, all hell with Zayn's. The amazing things Zayn does are pushed aside, and the same thing goes for One Direction—for the bad things anyway. Niall loves the band, he really does—but it doesn't outweigh the silence they've all kept with what they're doing.

"That's the One Direction in me. But, you're going to enjoy life more when you don't look for anyone's approval but your own. You know what you're doing, you know it all. Everyone can say you're being a dick or an angel—that's what they see. It's only important you know what you see."

What Zayn sees—it could never be the same what Niall sees. He wants to believe that it's true; when he looks into Niall's eyes, he almost gets taste of that belief. He says kiss me, turns his head to meet Niall's and catches a long pressure between their lips. It grows from a sweet kiss at the piano to a messy, thoughtless, endless round of licking and biting on Zayn's bed—exposed skin, clothes scattered onto the wooden floor.

In the heated moment of things, it gets hotter than it has to be. There are no words to say to Niall to thank him, so a kiss is suffice. Pressed together on their sides, their legs tangled tight together, Zayn's thigh pressed right between Niall's legs. Niall holds Zayn's jaw with so much pressure as they kiss and kiss, drowning themselves in each other.

The time eventually came when they finished and all either one of them thought was sleep. Zayn kicked the feeling away, put his clothes back on, ignored Niall's questions. He had gone of the bed and reached for his clothes eventually while Zayn waited. With Zayn's hand pushing Niall, the two of them go out the veranda door, out to the garden where it's dark and all they can see are the neighbour's lights by many miles away.

"I miss these kinds of nights." Zayn sighs. They start to walk down the path to the vineyard, and Niall grows the thought in his head to donate some lights along the way.

"Who do you talk to anymore—about like, deep things?" Niall's fingers laces between Zayn's. With it cold out, Niall tucks their hands in Zayn's sweater.

"Family. My dad mostly. Caroline." Zayn shrugs.

"Small circle." Niall observes.

"You know how I like it." There's suggestion in the quirk of his eyebrows.

"I can't believe you." A hand covering his eyes, Niall snorts and looks away. They're coming by the winery where the old owner left a few of the wines they made. They left some for Niall as a thank you—for renting their property out.

"Smells like rotting wood and dirt." Zayn sniffs.

"The oldest one is 83." Niall reaches for the first wine in the slot. It's set up by the top being the oldest wines to the youngest going down the rows.

"You know," Zayn's lips twist. "If we went to Spain, you could have had all the beer and tapas you want."

Niall could have all the things he wants—beer, endless circle of friends, the opportunity to travel, new cars. The world is open for his taking, and he'll pluck it like berries from bushes, and savour the sweetness of the fruits.

Under the night stars—no planes, no city lights to outshine them, they lay out the blanket on the grass, pop the wine open. With no glass, they share it sip after sip until the warmth from their cheeks seeps down their neck. All the things Niall wants—are nothing compared to what he could never have.

But then again, Zayn did answer his text.

In the silence, Niall stares at the falling star that flashes before his eyes. Zayn melts right against Niall, and his mind just thinks,  _next time._

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kuuuuuudos are appreciated! :)
> 
> talk to me: weyheyy.tumblr.com


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